Look At The Flowers
by LawsonTR01
Summary: When the residents of Alexandria survive a breach in their defenses, their relief is short lived when a new threat rises; The Saviors. (AU WALKING DEAD SERIES 6/7 STORY) Note: Mature Language and Themes within.
1. Chapter 1 - Something to Fear

**A/N: Hey guys! So this is an ongoing fanfic I'm writing based on the latter half of Season 6 going onto Season 7. It's AU and will just explore some potential happenings, or just be a way of telling the story in a different manner from the way the TV series goes on to tell it. This is my first fanfic for the Walking Dead so I hope you all enjoy it. Reviews are most welcome and I'd love to hear from you. Thanks guys, and once again, hope you enjoy it!**

 **Chapter 1 – Something to Fear**

They had survived. Despite the horde of Walkers breaching Alexandria's walls and the Wolves trying to tear all they had built from them, the people of Alexandria had stood tall and reclaimed it as their own. They had become exactly what Rick had feared they never could. They had proved him wrong. And he was all the happier for it. Deep down in his darkened soul from all which he had been through, he'd wanted them to change ever so desperately. He just didn't know how to show it the right ways. For all of it to come to pass however, it had cost them greatly. Carl had lost his eye… and Jessie…. She had been lost entirely to them. Countless others completed that death toll too. And when it seemed that all had been lost and there was little more to hold onto in a world so plagued by grief and death, they stumbled across someone who brought them some hope. Father Gabriel may have been right all along. Maybe they should have been putting their faith in a little man called Jesus. Though, granted, perhaps it hadn't been the Jesus he'd been preaching about.

Having stumbled upon Jesus Monroe in their travels, Rick and Daryl had brought a new set of possibility to Alexandria. Food, crops, medicine – anything they could have ever dreamed of and then some.

And finally, he had taken them to his home so that they could speak to the leader of the Hilltop Colony to try and come to an agreement on trade.

Maggie had been working her magic for what seemed like hours now inside the Barington House. From what Jesus had told the rest of the group, Gregory, their leader, could pose quite the immovable object when it came to meeting on mutual ground. Though, from what had been said, he had nothing on a man named Negan. A man that Jesus had preached should never be crossed – especially when he came with the numbers that fell in line with him.

"So this…. 'Negan', you folks ain't stood up to him before?" Rick quirked, his legs kicked out in front of him as he sat on a small, carved stool that Jesus had provided each of the Alexandrian's that had come to the Hilltop.

"He's quite the savage. Dangerous, cruel…. Sadistic." Jesus explained. "It's not that we don't want to oppose what he stands for – we just can't. Most of our people here wouldn't know where to point a gun or knife if you put it in their hands to defend themselves. They're chefs, builders, housewives, childcare workers…. Nothing more, Rick."

"An' so what? You just roll over and let this Negan guy take anythin' he wants?" Rick pushed some more.

"After he bashes a sixteen year olds head in right in front of the entire town – you kind of have to come to terms with the fact that you can't oppose that. Especially when he has an army behind his back." The bearded Hilltop man remarked, pulling a hand through his long locks.

"Surely there's something you can do, Jesus?" Glenn asked from his own seated position. "Find a happy medium with him…. Something?"

Jesus laughed a little. "No, I'm afraid not." He let out a deep, breathy sigh. "Negan isn't the negotiable type. If he wants it, he gets it. Simple as that."

Michonne sat silently, her sword over her lap as she looked between Rick and Daryl who sat opposite her. Clearly by her very expression she didn't like this Negan fellow already, but she hadn't the need to voice herself.

Tara looked ill and pale in face still from the remark about the sixteen year old boy being bludgeoned to death with Eric, Rosita and Heath appearing in much the same way.

Jesus had readied to elaborate some though was cut off by a call out at the gates.

"Open the gates! Saviours approaching!'

Eyes flashed to the entrance to the settlement. Concern crossed Jesus's face as he launched to his feet and raced across the ground between where he sat and the guards who had watch duty.

"Negan…. Is Negan with them!?"

The guard paused. His eyes narrowed as he tried to see out into the crowd of bikes that approached. Silence. A brief moment more of pause. His body froze.

Jesus waited, eyes wide as he looked up at the man he'd been waiting on for a reply.

"Connor! Is Negan with them!?"

Connor turned, his face paling. He nodded. "Y-…yeah."

Jesus immediately began back towards Rick and his group. Without a moments delay he advised them strongly. "Negan is here. You need to stay silent. Let me talk to them, stand away with the rest of the Hilltop folk – perhaps he won't notice you all. I need you to understand… None of you can say anything."

"I ain't afraid of this asshole, Jesus." Rick began. "He ain't nothin' to fear."

Jesus paused. His deep blue eyes fell low and almost became teary in nature.

"Quite the opposite, my friend. He _IS_ something to fear."

With that, the entrance gates creaked open and the sound of motorcycles roared into the Hilltop; the sound spewing from their exhausts echoing off the wooden walls. Rick and his group had done their very best to disperse themselves in between those in the Hilltop whom had come to crowd around the scene. Children were shaking – trebling in fear. Daryl's eyes had been centered on the group the moment they had entered, his eyes noting his own customized bike with the son-of-a-bitch who had stolen it from him mounted upon it…. Though this time, he looked different. An iron burn scarred the left side of his face. The skin looked as if it had been seared of with a welding rod or something; bits and pieces still peeling away – particularly exposing his eye that rested loosely in its socket.

A breathless, 'son-of-a-bitch' escaped Daryl's lips and Michonne grabbed him at the wrist as he tried to lurch forward to confront the man whom had robbed him; his eyes now settled on the crossbow that Dwight had been holding.

"Not now." Michonne whispered. "We need to be invisible."

As if on cue, a tall, brooding, muscular man broke from the middle of the flank of bikers. He was cleanly shaven with a maniac-like grin plastered from ear to ear. On his shoulder he had been resting the baseball bat wrapped in barbwire that he was holding in his hand. His leather boots thumped down next to him as he dismount his bike and his large, masculine legs carried him onwards toward Jesus whom was standing with his hands clasped in front of him.

"Negan… I-I didn't know that you were coming?" Jesus began.

"I didn't realise I needed a fucking invitation you cocksucker?" The barbarically large man snorted.

"No… You don't… You're always welcome. I just-…"

"Shut the fuck up. You'd sound a lot better choking on my dick while I skull fuck your half-dead corpse, you hippy cunt. Maybe we can arrange it…." He looked as though he was almost pondering the thought like it had been some kind of sick fantasy, before he snapped his gloved fingers. "But first! Where's that Gregory mother fucker?" he questioned.

Jesus looked warily around, then his eyes flashed up to the Barington House for just a moment; noting Gregory staring petrified out the window.

"He…" he turned his head to meet where Negan had been standing, but the man had already brooded forward and delivered a firm elbow into Jesus's left brow, sending him violently to the floor.

"I see him in the window. Don't even fucking worry." Negan paced onwards, shoving his way through the crowd and onto the stairs of the Barington house. With a firm kick, he send the doors flying open and he let out a mocking call.

"Oh Mr. Gregory…. I'm here to fuck-up your villaaaaaage!"

No response.

Negan had become visibly frustrated by that.

"Hey! Fuckwit! Get down here now before I start smashing skulls in!" he swing his bat outwards, smashing a table clean in half before Gregory finally began stumbling down the stairs in a panic.

"I'm here! Please, Negan! What's the problem?" Gregory began, fretting.

"Your last drop to us. It was fucking short. Where the fuck is the fucking rest?"

Behind Negan, Tara had stumbled from the crowd to help Jesus to his feet – and unfortunately for Rick and his group, Gregory's eye had been caught by it… and in turn… Negan's attention was taken as well.

The biker turned on the heel of his boots, narrowing his eyes as Tara picked Jesus up.

"And who in the fuck are you?" he called out, strolling away from the house and onto the front steps. "In fact…. Who in the fuck is that Samurai bitch as well?" a growl escaped him as he face fell sour.

"These aren't your fucking people, Gregory…."

"N-no… there's a handful that-…" Gregory stammered.

"Point. Them. Out." Negan cut him off .

Gregory stepped forward and reluctantly began pointing each of the members whom weren't his own out, and members of the Saviours began grabbing and restraining them – dropping them to their knees in front of Barington House.

First Tara, then Eric, Heath followed next. Michonne and Daryl then, and Rick and finally Glenn and Rosita.

"Well fee-fi-fo-fum… I thought I smelt some fucking deception in the air today!' He raised his bat into the air, before swing it down and casting it to the left and then to the right, as if he was playing with it like a toy. He stepped out to the line-up, his eyes moving between them all.

"I can't blame you for this fuckery, Gregory. Gotta' blame Jesus for this one. Fucker should have told me this shit when I first got here. But apparently, he thinks he don't gotta fuckin' tell me shit. So, if he's getting a 'Jesus Complex', I gotta put the fucker down…" Negan signalled Dwight to haul Jesus over to him. The scarred man grabbed the bearded man and tossed him to Negan's feet.

A sadistic smile grew and grew and grew until it could grow no more on the bat-wielders face, until his joyful smirk vanished as he raised his bat to deliver justice, and a voice broke his momentum.

"Stop!" Rick has rose from the line-up, a desperate look on his face. "You can't be blamin' him for this! We just got here and I ain't spoken to Jesus yet. Guards only just saw us and we just got lost in the damn excitement of your arrival. If he knew we were here, he'd have told you right away! Gregory only knew who we were 'cause one of the Hilltop scouts spotted us before we got here, and let 'im know we were 'bout to pull-in."

Negan paused, looked down at Jesus who had his eyes closed before finally, he broke his silence with a thunderous laugh. "Well fuck me, mister. Ain't that fucking noble of you!" he grabbed Jesus by the collar of his shirt and tossed him back to Dwight. "Give him a hidin' for good fucking measure."

Dwight of course obliged and began laying into Jesus until he was bruised and bloodied, a concussed ball on the floor.

Turning to face Rick, Negan pointed his bat towards him. "Lucille here and I would love to know your fucking name. So, what's your fucking name?"

Rick swallowed deeply, his eyes a filled with a fiery rage after witnessing Jesus being beaten to a pulp.

"Rick… I'm Rick Grimes. This here's Michonne, Daryl, Heath, Tara, Eric, Glenn and Rosita… We… we're from another group. We just came on out here after stumblin' upon the place on a run."

"I understand what you did, Rick. Standing up and stopping me from killing that bearded fuck. But the thing is… We have a way of doing things around here. And you broke the rhythm of that. You speak when I want you to speak. Now someone's gotta pay the price for your fucking stubbornness and naivety, asshole." He heaved his bat up to his shoulder once more, and grabbed Rick from the line-up, setting him down in front of them all.

"Someone's gotta fucking die so people understand what happens for going astray from the way things are. And so now's the time to fucking speak, as told by Negan." He leaned down so that his mouth was inches from Rick's ear. His voice was loud so that everyone could hear still though.

"So who the fuck dies as an example?"

Rick swallowed heavily again, and he spoke simply. "I do."

Negan let out a bellowing laugh yet again, and the other Saviours joined in.

"No, no, fucking no!" he snorted. "Nobodies being made a martyr of here today. You like making the big calls? You like picking who lives and who dies? Well… Fucking choose one!"

"No." simple words.

Negan smirked, his legs carrying him away from Rick as he approached the line-up. He found himself standing in front of Eric, his eyes looking down at the man who looked up back at him.

"Hey there, fucker."

"Hello si-." Before Eric could get another word out, Negan let a furious blow crack down onto his skull. Blood gushed from the wound that had pretty much split his head in two from top to bottom. Brain mattered splattered the others in the line-up and disgusted cries left those who watched on.

But Negan…. He smiled and laughed like a sick child, continuing his momentum until Eric's skull was nothing. All that remained were partial portions of skin and bone matter that once connected to his neck.

The other survivors in the line-up were visibly shocked and petrified. Tears welled in some, anger in others. But Rick, Rick looked broken and responsible.

"Now Rick, you motherfucker!" Negan began, wiping a hand across his face to clean away some of the blood and brain matter. "Choose one!"

"I ain't chosin'. You killed one of us already!" he appeared infuriated as he tried to stand, but Dwight kicked his knees from under him and sent him face first back into the dirt.

Closing in on Glenn, Negan let out another gleeful laugh. His bat when up, but at the last moment as it came crashing down, he swung left and took the bat to Rosita's head. The fluent momentum and sheer brute force had taken to splitting her head in half like some kind of fruit. Though, the juice was dark red blood. The blood splattered Heath's face, forcing him to close his eyes to shield them from the gore – though – only for a moment. Negan's moment and force had been so great that he'd crashed Lucile into Heath's head as well, caving his temple in and leaving him a bloodied mess on the floor as well; right next to Rosita.

"Home fucking run!" he called out, raising his arms in a victorious fashion as the Saviours cheered him on.

Screams of agony and horror escaped Michonne as she looked on, tears streaming down her face at the pure disgustingness of Negan's murderous crimes. And as much as she had tried to stifle the emotion, she simply couldn't anymore.

Glenn's heavy breathing had turned into sobs.

Daryl cussed out at Negan and a Saviour delivered a firm smack to the side of his face, splitting his lip. Tara had broken down, crying like a child as she watched as those she cared about fell motionless to the floor.

And Rick?

Rick felt tears sting his cheeks for the first time in a long time. Angry, rage-filled tears. He felt so helpless… So at the mercy of Negan. As if everything that had built him up to the man he was today had come crashing down in a few instances.

"You don't fucking get it do you, Rick? You HAVE to choose… Or I'm gonna choose to kill them all. They aren't shit to me. Fuck 'em. They're sport. So if you want any of them going home… You fucking choose someone!"

And then, as Negan readied to pace the remaining line-up once more, Rick let out a defeated and agonized cry.

"Wait!... Wait…" he paused a moment. "I'll choose." Tears streamed his face as he said it. That one name. "T-…Tara."

Negan called out joyfully, "Hoorah! Ding, fucking, ding, we've got a winner!"

Tara's crying had stopped as she heard Rick utter her name, and she looked up at him. "Rick! Fuck… RICK! PLEASE… NO… PLEASE! YOU BASTARD! YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" her words were broken as Negan grabbed her by the throat and lifted her into the air.

He carried her struggling body right in front of Rick, and dropped her to the floor so that she was on her knees once more.

With the bat, he tilted her chin up so that she looked right into Rick's eyes.

He looked back into them, unable to blink or look away. He sobbed an apology to her, and then, as abrupt as all of this had been in the first place – it was over.

Negan put Lucile straight into the back of Tara's head and the blood splashed forward into Rick's face. Her beaten head fell into his lap, drenching him in blood, and Negan let out a bellowing laugh for the last time.

"You see Rick, I always get my way….."

Rick and his group were broken. They were all completely in shock and unable to move or react to anything. They just knelt… defeated.

And then, as quick as he had come, Negan looked to Gregory and pointed his bloodied bat his way, "Next time your drop is short, this'll be your people." And he was back on his bike and on his way to leave.

Though, it seemed that Daryl had found his legs. In the mayhem, he had cut his binds with a small, sharp rock he'd found in the dirt and launched into action. He charged towards Rick, grabbed his gun and pulled it from the broken mans body. Standing to full height, he cocked the hammer back and aimed the handcannon straight for Negan.

He readied. He was breathing heavily, but he was certain he'd make the shot.

Then he noted Dwight's eyes locked on him and the crossbow that he had stolen aimed right back his way; bolt loaded and all.

Daryl shifted his aim to Dwight. He breathed, he pulled the trigger.

Dwight launched the bolt.

Silence was in the air and time had frozen in itself…

The wind was non-existent. It was a matter of who loosed first. And Daryl had no clue.


	2. Chapter 2 - Bullet & Bolt

**A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews! I'm really glad that you are all enjoying this so much. Please do keep them coming because they really make adding to the story feel all the easier! Apologies to those I made a little squeamish with the deaths in the last chapter, but I get the feeling you'd have it no other way. Negan's one sick bastard (but y'know, we love him XD). Thanks again guys and keep those reviews coming!**

 **-Lawson**

Chapter 2 – Bullet & Bolt

"Now Maggie, you and I both know that you had nothing to really offer us here at the Hilltop." Gregory smiled, folding his arms dismissively of anything the Alexandrian had been saying.

He'd been looking her over like she was some sort of piece of meat that he couldn't wait to get his hands on and the very concept had made Maggie shudder with displeasure. She was a pregnant woman – and more again – she was a married woman. Every time Gregory set his eyes upon her own, she felt the ill thoughts that he had been thinking.

But, as any good negotiator would, she shrugged them off and kept herself level headed.

"Gregory… C'mon. You an' I both know we do have things that this community needs. Ammunition, medicine… Firepower… We can-." Maggie's smooth talking had been broken by the loud noises of the bikes pulling up outside that had spiralled up the staircase and then filled the room that they had been situated in.

Gregory had raced to the window to cast a glance out, and in those brief moments in which he had froze in horror – he noted that Negan had seen him; even despite his best efforts to retreat back from the window. The sound of Barington house's door being kicked in what like rolling thunder in the ensuing moments.

Both Gregory and Maggie snapped their attention to the door that lead back out to the general populous.

Then, the voice came.

 _"_ _Oh Mr. Gregory…. I'm here to fuck-up your villaaaaaage!"_

Gregory's eyes widened and his heart raced at a million miles an hour.

 _"_ _Hey! Fuckwit! Get down here now before I start smashing skulls in!"_

"Maggie… You need to stay here! Stay quiet. No matter what happens…. If Negan knows we're trying to strike a trade agreement with people he isn't aware of… My God, I can't even think what would come of it!" but before Maggie even had a chance to express her disagreement, Gregory had quickly exited the room and closed the door behind him, his legs hurriedly descending down the staircase.

Maggie swallowed deeply. She stood from her seat and made her way to the window that Gregory had been spotted in, allowing only one eye to peer out with. She could hear the murmured deep tones of the men below and then, the violent crack of a wood to bone. She felt her body jolt in horror at what she had witnessed, her hand clutching at her heart as if to try and steady its rapid beat. She felt the tears rolling down her cheeks. She felt her breath shakily leaving her lungs. For every member of their group that died in a bloody mess – her heart rate raced all the more. The tears swelled and fell all the more. Her uselessness built and built until she felt as though she were nothing. As if she had just been introduced to a whole new world yet again – the same way she had felt when she had first had to come to terms with the fact that the dead were walking. And she felt defenceless and shattered.

While she had managed to stifle her sobs until now, watching the final blow from Negan broke her completely. She threw a hand over her mouth to try and hold back her sobs some more – but they simply escaped through the gaps in between her fingers. She couldn't believe what she'd seen. She could not believe that there could possibly be a man as barbaric, cruel and violent as the one she had watched beat her friends…. Her family to death. And she couldn't believe that Glenn had survived it all. Because that moment when Negan had lined himself up with her husband, only to change his bats path in the last minute had Maggie breathless for what felt like hours.

But Glenn was there.

He was breathing.

He was whole.

And as cold as she felt about doing it, she thanked God that it hadn't been him who met Negan's wrath. But more again, she thanked Rick for doing what most of them never could. Making the decision as to who would die.

Those few moments that had felt like hours had subsided finally, and Negan had left his mark; that much had been clear. He and his group of savage men and women mounted up on their bikes and to Maggie's thankfulness, she finally saw the back of him. She finally saw him becoming a smaller figure in her vision, rather than a distinct, clear image of cruelty and evil.

Though, it seemed short lived.

The sound of Rick's Python blasting to life jolted Maggie's sights away from the butcher who had slaughtered her people. Her eyes levelled on Daryl, whom had almost been directly below the window. Only a small part of him was visible from where she stood, but of that part that made itself known, the Alexandrian knew well enough that it'd been him who had fired the shot. She followed the barrel of the hand cannon to where it had been aimed and her eyes detected one of the Saviours whom bore the large burn on one side of his face. The man had Daryl's crossbow aimed right back at the destination the shot had come from, and once again, Maggie felt as though any peace that had been restored had been snatched from her fingertips.

She watched as the crossbow loosed its bolt.

And she knew then, in that moment, that what had ensued prior to this stand-off had perhaps not yet finished.

* * *

Daryl froze in anticipation. He watched as his bullet trekked its way towards Dwight, his heart beating rapidly as he waited for the sound of metal hitting flesh. He had to have made that shot… He never missed.

And yet, the sound never came. But the stinging of something piercing his stomach tore through him as if he were being gutted. His eyes dropped away from Dwight as he felt his legs falter back from some sort of impact, and it had been then that he had seen it.

One of his own bolts had lodged itself in his stomach with only a few mere inches of it still visible outside his body. He could feel the sharpened head scratching at his insides with each movement he made, before finally, he felt the blood oozing from the wound, down his stomach and onto his leg. Then came the coldness. The feeling of Death grabbing at him, as if she were some merciless, greedy bitch.

As if there hadn't been enough death to keep her content for years to come?

Yet she still wanted more.

He dropped then, his legs no longer wanting to hold him upright. His body felt weaker than it had in years, and the only movement he seemed to be able to muster had been the instinct to grab at the wound and hold the bolt in place.

His eyes battered open, closed, open again, closed, until finally they closed over and his body dropped onto its back side. Blood continued to ooze from the wound as Daryl's grip began to loosen a little.

The sound of his own gun firing off had Rick back at attention. He had witnessed every second of what had happened, though, there was little he could do. He rushed over to Daryl, holding his hands over the wound and uttering desperate pleas from him to 'hold on', but no response or even a sign of life came.

He waved his hand over towards the doctor of the Hilltop, cussing at him to hurry up and get over to them. To try and save Daryl if he hadn't been too far gone already. Though, no one came. Negan and his Saviours were still far too close for that.

Michonne had found her feet as well, the same as Glenn whom had rushed to Rick's side, doing all they could to help with the situation. Though, while Rick and Glenn had been focused on Daryl, Michonne's eyes had remained on the Saviours to make sure that they weren't planning anything else.

No one else was dying today from their group. Not if Michonne had anything to say about it, anyway.

She watched as Negan had stopped his bike in its place after having heard the gunshots, flashing a glance over to Dwight. While she couldn't hear what either of them were saying over the sound of the roaring Harley's, she knew well enough from their lips that Negan had asked:

'Did you get him? Is he fucking dead?'

To which Dwight stopped, looked back at the group and the pale faced Daryl, and paused a moment longer before turning back to Negan and nodding his head with a plain, 'Dead.'

And just like that, they were gone.

As that roar of the engines depleted into nothingness, it felt as though there was silence all around them, even despite it looking as if it were a scene struck by some sort of natural disaster. The screams of Rick for help, the crying of Glenn and the sound of disgusted onlookers bringing their lunch up from their stomachs had been the closest thing they had to silence since Negan's arrival.

"Get me a goddamn doctor now!" Rick cried out some more, until finally, the doctor rushed over and checked Daryl's pulse – solely to see if there was anything worth saving that remained within him.

"Is he alive?" Glenn sobbed a little more.

The doctor felt for a pulse some more. He was desperate to find one. Nothing. He spoke not a single word.

"Doc?" Rick begged again this time.

The doctor continued searching until finally, his eyes lit up with some essence of hope. He hooked one of Daryl's arms around his neck and signalled to Rick. "He's still there… Barely. Get his other arm! I've got to get him to the medical tent!" he urged hurriedly.

Rick obliged, and though he was very much centered on saving Daryl's life, his eyes refused to falter from the victims of Negan's assault; because he felt as though he was responsible. He had been the reason that so many of them had died.

They moved quickly towards the tent and Rick managed to find some rational thinking within him to cast a word over his shoulder.

"Glenn, check on Maggie!" his voice had still been trembling from the emotions flowing violently within him, and yet, despite trying to get a hold over them – he simply couldn't.

Glenn wasted no time. He nodded and raced into Barington House, passed Gregory and up the stairs to the office that he knew Maggie to be in. He burst through the door like a child on Christmas, trying to urgently awaken his parents so that he could open his presents, before he set eyes upon her. His wife, his love, the soon to be mother of his child.

She was a ball on the floor, tears rushing down her face and sobs escaping her mouth as she clearly recalled what she had seen.

"Maggie… Baby, I'm here. Come on, you have to be strong!" he rushed to her, pulling her into his arms and cradled her. "We're still here. We still have some hope, Maggie. Hold onto it! Please, baby." He begged her, his sobs returning as he heard the woman he loved in so much pain from all of this.

"He killed them, Glenn…" she spoke through broken, trembling breaths. "He killed all of them…"

* * *

Hours had passed. Maggie and Glenn were sitting by a campfire outside, holding one another still, tenderly speaking to one another and trying to get passed everything that had come to them. Michonne had been in the medical tent, watching the doctor do his work on Daryl with Rick standing close by her side. The bodies of their dismembered loved ones had been covered and wrapped in bed sheets and set to one side of the camp, as far away from the community as they possibly could be.

"We need to get back to Alexandria." Rick spoke plainly. "Need'a bring everyone up to speed…. Tell… everyone who lost someone here what the hell happened…." His voice began to quiver once more, though this time, he took hold of it. "Gotta' see what people think we should do. How to react to all this…."

Michonne nodded her head. "You're right." She stated. "Maggie and Glenn said the same thing about an hour ago; I just thought it best to let you decide when the time was to leave." She waited a few moments. "What about him?" her eyes were resting on the barely living Daryl who was laying on the stretcher before them.

Rick paused for a moment. He allowed his eyes to drift to the doctor before he let any words leave his lips.

"You think you can take care of him while we head out to sort all this out?"

"Of course." The doctor smiled back. "I'd double check with Gregor-."

As if on cue, Gregory entered the tent with a blunt, "No. Take your people and get the fuck out of my home."

Rick turned to face him, his eyes almost pleading. "Gregory… Daryl ain't got a leg to stand on if we take him away from your doctor." He swallowed. "I know keepin' him here is a risk for you and your people, but-."

At that moment, a bruised and battered Jesus rose from his own stretcher in the medical tent, his eyes trained on the two men speaking. Though, he didn't utter a word. He lay there, watching – seeing exactly how Gregory had finally come to show his true colors in front of their new potential friends.

"No! You take him with you. If Negan comes back and see's we're nursing one of your people to health, he'll kill us. He'll kill me! You and your people are all leaving when you do! And if you leave this redneck here, I'll put a fucking knife through head throat myself." Gregory growled, taking a step closer to Rick so that they were barely inched apart. "I may not be like Negan, but I will do whatever I have to in order to make sure I see through the night."

Rick's eyes narrowed. The threat towards another of his people so soon after so many had been taken from him filled him with a rage he hadn't felt since Lori had been taken from him. His heart was racing and his face flushed red. With a firm hand, he clasped Gregory by the scruff of his shirt. He threw his hand down to the large knife that rested on his belt and with a swift unsheathing motion; he slid the blade through Gregory's throat. Blood splashed up into his face as he severed the jugular.

"Clearly…. You ain't gonna' see through tonight." He spoke, breaking his sentence up as he retracted the blade from Gregory's throat, dropping his twitching body to the floor.

Casting a look toward the awoken Jesus, Rick wiped the blood from his face. "You good with this? I'm sorry it had to come to it, but I ain't riskin' one of my own here…. Not after what just happened."

Jesus smiled.

He painfully lifted himself from his stretcher and stood to his feet before moving over to Rick and setting a hand on his shoulder.

"We've needed a change for a very long time. Gregory's afraid…. Afraid to do anything. He was happy for any one around him to die, so long as he got to see another day." He breathed out heavily, taking a small dagger from his own belt and drilling it down into Gregory's head to prevent reanimation. Casting a glance back up towards Rick, he nodded. "I might not agree with how you went about bringing change, but we're with you Rick. With Alexandria. Whatever you all decide when you return home – we've got your back." He promised. Casting a look back at Daryl, he gave an assurance. "We'll keep him stable here. You have my word. Now go, speak to your people."

Rick gave him a thankful nod, before he turned and clapped Michonne on the arm, inviting her to follow him as he left the tent.

He flashed a glance to Glenn and Maggie and summoned them with him, before the group finally made it out to their camper van; having collected their fallen friends as well.

Rick dropped himself into the driver's seat, his eyes trained dead ahead as he ignited the engine and began accelerating to get them on their way.

Not a word was said the entire way.

Until they finally saw the walls of Alexandria.

"We're home."


End file.
